


Tattoo

by NinetyFiveFathoms



Category: Scrubs (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kelsox, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21849355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinetyFiveFathoms/pseuds/NinetyFiveFathoms
Summary: When Kelso leaves early for a date, the hospital staff is left wondering who it could be.
Relationships: Bob Kelso/Johnny (Scrubs), Perry Cox/Bob Kelso
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Tattoo

“Anderson,” Kelso sighs, exasperation oozing from each syllable, “how many times do I have to ask you to finish writing up that paper for me? I need it before I leave at 3 today.”

“I’m pretty busy today, Bob,” he shrugs, “can’t it wait?”

“No, it _can’t_ , because you’ve already kept me waiting on this for weeks. And remind me again, what e _xact_ part of your job are you accomplishing right now by sitting on your ass in the doctor’s lounge?”

Anderson stares back at him blankly, slouching further into the couch.

“Get me the damn paper within the hour so I can give it a look before I leave.” Satisfied that his demands have been firmly stated, he turns around and begins to storm away.

“Hot date, sir?”

The words stop him in his tracks and he turns to face the source of the inquiry.

“As a _matter of fact_ , Turkleton, I happen to have a _very_ hot date that I would like to be on time for,” he bristles at the young surgeon, whose expression is just shy of a smirk. “Not that that’s any of your _bus_ iness.”

“Not like the massage parlor’s going anywhere,” mutters Elliot from alongside him, and Kelso’s glare intensifies on her. She pulls her nose out of the book she’s examining and meets his eyes with a blush.

“If you have something to _say_ , Dr. Reid, feel free to share.”

“Well, sir, it’s just…”

“Yes?”

“I think what she’s _trying_ to say,” J.D. chimes in, looking up from the medical texts and shooting Elliot an understanding glance, “is just that…it feels a little unfair for you to drop work on others so that you can leave early.”

The young doctor looks pale but maintains a firm stare.

“Well, that’s the good news: I don’t get paid to give a crap about how you _feel_ ,” he spits before turning back to the still-slumped figure on the couch. “Anderson, I want that paper _soon_.”

Kelso storms back to his office, imagining how the discussion in the doctor’s lounge is playing out in his absence. First, people will be righteously defensive of Anderson, despite the fact that the man is a lazy jackass who’s brought this upon himself. Then, there will be compliments offered to Dr. Dorian for standing up to The Man and how his efforts to emulate Perry are more successful by the day. Adding to it all, everyone will make any number of jokes about what kind of “hot date” Kelso could possibly have as a never-married 60-year-old.

It doesn’t faze him. Once upon a time it might have, but he’s too old to give a shit anymore about people’s opinions of him, too tired of a lifetime of being judged and scrutinized. Besides, their perspectives fall precisely in line with the persona he’s affected. Were he in their position, he’s sure he’d bear just as much hatred toward himself as they do.

Back at his office, he tries his best to busy himself to keep from stressing about the time. To his pleased surprise, it’s only a half an hour more before Anderson shows up.

“So, Bob,” Anderson starts after he drops the paperclipped stack into his hands, a devious grin on his face, “tell me about this hot date of yours.”

“Well…” Kelso mirrors the grin and begins to chuckle lightly.

“C’mon—what’s she look like? I’m married, I’ve gotta live vicariously through you.”

“She’s got a giant set of ‘mind your own damn business’ and a fantastic ‘I don’t like you,’” Kelso responds, his expression turning flat as his words turn blunt.

“I’ll bet she’s ugly,” Anderson grumbles as he reluctantly leaves.

Kelso simply shakes his head and exhales. “Close the door on your way out.”

Following through with the energy he’s maintained all week long, pushing himself to get through what needed to be done so he could make this important date, he works hard to finish looking over the paper, marking notes in red pen. He gives it one final look over before rising from his chair and turning to the clothes hanging on his closet door, changing his white shirt to a clean one, trading his doctor’s coat for a charcoal sport coat to match his pants, and fastening a golden-mustard tie around his neck until it looks just right.

Paper firmly grasped in his right hand and bag held by his left, he walks briskly through the halls of Sacred Heart, undertaking the final task before his departure.

“My comments, Anderson,” he utters as he comes upon the doctor, pressing the paper to his chest. Anderson says something in response as he grabs it, but Kelso moves too quickly to hear or care, ignoring anyone and everyone he passes by until he’s finally sitting in his car, key in the ignition and engine roaring to life. The dated digital clock on the dash lights up: 3:01. He’s right on time. With his favorite radio station set up, he pulls out of the space and embarks upon his mission.

A two-hour round trip later, he finally arrives back in town with the desired object in possession: a bouquet of bluebonnets. Carefully navigating the winding drive, he reaches his destination and pulls over to the side of the road.

The engine and radio fall silent as he twists the key, and he reaches over to grab the vibrant, indigo-and-white flowers from the passenger’s seat. He fumbles out of the car, nudging the door closed with his leg, then pops the hatch with the remote. Placing the bouquet into a small canvas bag in there, he grabs the bag itself and a small lawn chair before using his elbow to shut the trunk.

Holding one item in each hand, he plods across the grass as the gentle, spring breeze brushes his skin and grazes over the sprawling green. He carefully manages his steps among the sea of granite until he arrives at his destination, a flat slab in the ground with an inscription:

> JOHN NEMEROFF
> 
> MARCH 22, 1945 – OCTOBER 22, 1985

“Hey, Johnny,” Kelso smiles, his tone warm and familiar. He places the bag on the ground, then uses both hands to unfold the lawn chair in front of the gravestone, gently easing into it.

“I brought you these,” he says, pulling the bouquet of bluebonnets from the bag. “They’re fresh—as fresh as you can get them here, anyway, overnighting them from Texas and picking them up from that flower shop an hour away. Worth it to get your favorites, though.

“Happy Birthday, dear,” Kelso continues as he puts the flowers down alongside the grave, turning his wrist to glance at his watch. “Look at that, 5:14—I’m just in time for your birth minute.

“And, here—” he carefully moves himself off the chair into a kneeling position on the ground, reaching into the bag again and brandishing a pair of brown gardening gloves that he begins to don. “Looks like you could use some cleaning.”

Kelso starts to hum to himself as he pulls away the debris and loose grass hanging over the stone, dropping it into a small garbage bag as he goes along. When the stone is unobstructed, he looks over his work with a smile, brushing his hands together before pulling a small spray bottle and two weathered diaper cloths from his canvas bag. After spritzing the area, he scrubs thoroughly with one cloth, digging into each indentation to capture every bit of dirt, then goes over it again with the still-dry cloth.

“There, that’s much better,” he sighs, moving the bouquet to the top of the grave.

It isn’t until this moment that he hears the sound of somebody approaching in the grass, and his head twists around to face them.

“Perry,” he remarks with surprise, “what are you doing here?”

“Sorry, I know this is… _your_ thing,” he offers timidly as he navigates the area, carefully watching for gravestones as he steps, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh, I’m fine. But while you’re here, I could use some help getting up,” he chuckles.

Towering over his crouched form, Perry stretches an arm downward, and Kelso grasps it, the leverage helping him pull himself to a standing position.

“Look at you—dressed up all nice and kneeling in the dirt,” Perry remarks as Kelso brushes dirt and grass from his pants.

“Well, I wanted to look good for him.”

“I know, I get it—and I’m not complaining. You look real handsome.”

The two exchange soft smiles, the breeze tossing their hair lightly.

“Listen, since you’re here, I want to introduce you to him,” Kelso finally says.

“Bob, I’m not—I understand _your_ need to do this, but I don’t talk to gravestones.”

“Just humor me for a moment, will you?”

Perry shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “All right, fine.”

“Johnny, this is Perry,” he smiles, entwining his fingers with Perry’s and giving him an affectionate glance before turning that same expression back to the gravestone. “We’ve been together for almost a year now, and he’s…he’s frustrating, obnoxious, and stubborn, not to mention a damn wonderful man whom I know you’d love just as much as I do.”

Perry shoots him a doubtful glance.

“He would,” Kelso reassures him, then looks at him expectantly.

“Hi…Johnny,” Perry manages.

Kelso disentangles his hand from Perry’s and runs a hand across his back, chuckling softly. “That was great, darling. Thank you.”

Perry shrugs, draping an arm across Kelso’s shoulders and pulling him closer.

“I’m glad to be able to introduce the two of you finally, in some capacity,” Kelso continues, turning to Perry. 

“God knows I’ve seen his name plenty,” Perry chimes in, turning to Kelso with a humored grin as he playfully pats his butt.

“Hey, don’t laugh at my tattoo.”

“Not laughing _at_ it, dear. I love that you’re the kind of man who got matching ass tattoos with his partner.”

“Well, I loved him, as I still do,” Kelso smiles wistfully at the grave before gazing back up at his lover’s face. “And I love you.”

“Love you too, Bob,” Perry says, pecking him on the cheek.

“Do you mind if I stay with him for a while longer?”

“‘Course not—take all the time you need, I just wanted to check in with you. I’ll see you at home.”

“Thanks, Per,” he says with a kiss, and Perry begins to depart.

“Call if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

Kelso lowers himself back into the lawn chair carefully, exhaling deeply. The sound of Perry’s car engine softly fades into the distance, and he lets another breath out.

“I’ll tell you, Johnny, I didn’t think I could ever be happy at that hospital again after you were gone. To have to lose you just when the chief of medicine job was really picking up…well, let’s just say it wasn’t a challenge to lean into being the bad guy.

“But with Perry…it all fades away. Don’t get me wrong, I still hate having to be the realist and the villain, but…the way the hospital employees all look at me is _nothing_ compared with the way that _he_ does. I know he may seem standoffish, but he’s so kind. Always listens to me when I tell stories about you.”

He breathes in, leaning back into the chair as his body relaxes.

“He makes me happy. And I know you’d want that for me. Wish you could be here with us, though.”

He inhales and exhales in a rhythmic pattern, concentrating on the silent ease he feels. With one hand on his lap, Kelso reaches behind himself with the other, rubbing the spot on his backside where the name that so often lingers on his lips is etched.

“Y’know, people always say you’ll regret tattoos, but I think this was the best decision we ever made. No matter what happens…”

He takes a moment to drink in the moment, eyes turning upward to the dimming color in the twilight sky.

“No matter what, I'll always have a piece of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting around mostly done for a long time; it's definitely not the best thing I've ever written, but I've also always loved the overarching concept, between Kelso/Johnny (a vastly underappreciated and unexplored relationship by show and fans alike) and the dynamic of that and Kelso's relationship with Perry here, so I'd been itching to get this published at some point. And as a bonus, now I'm actually publishing something in 2019, something that I had assumed wasn't going to happen at this point given that my writing and general time has been pulled in other directions for most of the year.
> 
> As you'd expect from something I've written, the inspiration for this story came about while listening to a gorgeous song: [“Tattoo” by Rebecca Loebe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jCf2XnNMivs). She's an immensely talented singer-songwriter and I cannot recommend her music highly enough.
> 
> The title of this is obviously not very original, but it was the working title and everything else I could come up with felt less intriguing, so I’m defaulting back to this.


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